I'm not funny anymore.

I'm alive. I survived Halloween. Gross. The worst holiday ever. I don't know why I hate it so much. Maybe because it still scares the crap out of me, even at the ripe old age of 25. I'm shuddering. You can't see it, but I am.

I'm a blur. From school to the gym to home I go. I'm a car, fueled by delicious coffee. Maybe I am a hybrid. Probably not. I'm not trendy enough to pull that off. School is still burying me alive. However, the big Ozark Fitness launch is over. Thank the Lord. It was a huge success and a lot of fun, but good grief, I was wrecked. Especially after reading and writing papers like a madwoman last week. I actually pulled an all-nighter. Somehow those were a lot more doable in undergrad when I was 18. I have 2 more papers to write, two presentations to give, a stack of blue books to grade, and a myriad of side readings to do before I see Thanksgiving. Oh, and run a half marathon, get trained in RPM, and go compete for Team BAMF at the Heart of America CrossFit challenge. Ambitious, much?

I just realized I didn't eat one piece of Halloween candy this year. Seriously? Oh well. I had a giant bowl of Orange Leaf yesterday. One of my secret life goals is to see how much Orange Leaf I can fit in one bowl. And then eat it.

I wore my purple bandana last Friday to a team wod. I guess you could say I dressed up as Miranda Oldroyd for Halloween. It kind of helped. I finished the wod. And was subsequently sore to the touch for 3 days afterward. Recap: Sandy is heavy. 95lb is heavy. I suck at pistol squats.

I think there was a day I used to be funny. Unfortunately, that day is gone.